


Exclusive Access

by fyredancer



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Incest, M/M, Multi, light kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyredancer/pseuds/fyredancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In seeking to follow through on the tension that's been building between the two of them for years, Georg spends an afternoon with Tom and ends up getting so much more than he bargained for. He never would have thought the twins truly mean everything when they say they do everything together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Georg FQF fic, based on a prompt by our own lovely steinsgrrl: The day after a concert in California, Bill is off getting a full body wax, Gustav is sightseeing, Tom and Georg decide to check out the girls at the beach. As the banter gets more suggestive, the guys get more and more turned on. What they do with it is up to the author. Would love the end to include sore twins.

"So what is it you'd like to do here in Los Angeles in your free time?"

Georg looked beyond the camera, disconcerted as always by the wide, unblinking lens. He glanced at their camera man instead. "Beach...what is the word? Beach combing," he said with a laugh, leaning over their breakfast table and grabbing a piece of toast.

"Blondes," Tom supplied from across the table. He gestured as though to indicate rotund melons as he continued, "With big ones." He wore a dark cap pulled low over his forehead today, a 'TOM' cap with a small lip rather than a full bill, and immense shades to shield his eyes from sun and harsh effects of a presumed hangover.

The camera didn't have an angle on Bill, but Georg had a clear view of the other Kaulitz twin. He tried to suppress a grin as Bill rolled his eyes, the movement visible even through his large, purple-tinted sunglasses.

"So you're all going to the beach today?" the camera man prompted. "To enjoy your free day while you're here in L.A."

"See the sights," Gustav put in. "The weather is nice but I want to take it easy. I'm going on a tour."

The camera panned toward Bill, already anticipating that Gustav was finished – and it was true, he was. Gustav settled back in his chair and Bill hitched up in his, clearing his throat.

"I have an appointment," Bill said, picking up a croissant and pulling a chunk off. He lifted it toward his mouth as he concluded, "so no beach day for me."

"No?" Tom put in, seeming surprised.

"No," Bill replied firmly. "I've got plans."

"But..." Tom seemed adrift for an instant. He reached for a piece of fruit adorning the bowl at the center of the table and messed around with it instead of eating it, passing it from hand to hand and tossing it up into the air. "Thought you were going to the beach, too."

"I'm not," Bill said, as the camera dwelled on him. Bill flapped a hand at the three of them. "So have fun, you guys." He stuffed half the croissant into his mouth.

Georg couldn't help but gape a bit, as he did nearly every time Bill pulled off an oral feat of this caliber. He leaned against the table and grinned over at a somewhat woebegone-looking Tom. To anyone else he probably looked the same as usual, slouching, brow knitted, but Georg knew the signs. "Don't worry, Tom, I'll keep you company on the beach," Georg soothed. "Gustav may want to do a stuffy tour, but I'm here to sight-see." He had no intention of doing anything strenuous such as swimming or surfing, but an afternoon admiring the beautiful L.A. ladies sounded about right.

"Yes, thanks to me," Tom said. "Because I'm a babe magnet. That's a good strategy, Georg – stick by me if you want the ones I turn down."

Georg shook his head and huffed a bit. He gave the camera man a good-natured grimace and waved him off.

After the man had gone, Gustav got up and left the table, muttering something about getting ready and not wasting what daylight they had left.

"Bill, are you really--" Tom began.

"Yeah, sorry," Bill cut him off, sounding completely unapologetic. "I'm going to the spa."

"Oh," Tom said, and paused. He checked his watch. "But, I..."

"I'll catch up with you later," Bill said. He grabbed a piece of fruit out of the bowl and looked over at Georg, seeming hugely amused over something. "You two have fun with that, though."

"No true love in L.A. for Bill?" Georg teased him.

"They've got a masseuse at the spa," Bill said dryly. "That's close enough for me. You know how I am, anyhow – I can't even commit to a hairstyle."

Georg laughed. "Seeing as this is your fourth in slightly over a year..."

Bill raised a brow and lifted his hand to tug at his boyishly-cropped black hair. He had enough of a fringe to keep making bangs, now, but even the tail at his nape was gone and he'd shortened a lot of it to form a sharper, more close-lying peak when he had it styled. It was shorter than Georg had seen it since their Schrei years. "Take care of my Tom; I want him in the same condition in which I left him," he instructed, and he was gone.

A calm settled over the breakfast table. Without one twin to fuel the other unto heights of manic perversions, the atmosphere tended to settle into something almost as quiet as that which Georg tended to experience with Gustav.

"So," Georg said, patting the table with a hand. "Want to go to the beach?"

Tom checked his watch again. "It's a private beach, right?"

Georg gave a nod.

Tom drummed his fingers across the table. "Yeah, I guess," he said, with a noticeable drop in his level of enthusiasm.

Georg shook his head and dipped his head to disguise the smile. In general, time spent without Bill was Tom simply passing time. He liked to tease Tom about it, but gently – not so as he noticed, too much. Tom wasn't dumb and although he could dish the teasing out, neither he nor Bill could take it too well in excessive amounts.

"Separation anxiety?" Georg couldn't resist ribbing.

Tom blinked at him, uncomprehending. After a pause he made a little face that was no doubt intended to convey disgust, but Georg found it adorable, as with so much of Tom's posturing. "Huh? Nah...unless you mean Bill's. He'll probably be texting me, like, every five minutes."

This, at least, rang of truth. "Let's go grab trunks and towels, then," Georg said.

"And a security guard," Tom added, his tone a bit sour.

Georg shrugged. "It's a private beach," he repeated the tidbit as though that were any consolation.

"Yeah, but we still need security, because otherwise the ladies would be all up over my sexy," Tom said, now sounding cocksure rather than moody. 

Georg didn't bother to conceal his smirk and eyeroll, now. He'd long suspected that Tom's experience with women was extremely limited, based in part on Tom's wince-inducing language when it came to women. No one who did, or wanted to, get laid was that crude on camera. The other basis for Georg's guess was the fact that his skin mags disappeared on a regular basis and anecdotes from the articles appeared later, related from Tom's own mouth in a first person perspective.

As though _someone_ thought Georg didn't read the articles.

Security flanked them at a discreet pace as they went along the paved path from hotel to beach. The path was lined with sheltering palms and immense yuccas. L.A. knew how to cater to celebrities and VIPs, and Georg could see why the twins liked to come here - aside from the occasional flotilla of hardcore fans that dogged the exits, the band had been left undisturbed for the most part on this trip.

The beach was a white crescent dotted with hotel umbrellas here and there. Georg draped his towel around his neck and squinted into the distance as the sun struck sparks off the glassy surface of blue swells of water rolling into shore. There were people scattered here and there, not packed in side by side as Georg remembered from his younger days, when they'd actually been able to visit beaches unmobbed.

A cluster of young women in bikinis were laid out on large, colorfully striped beach towels. They had staked out a spot mid-way down the beach, well back from the tide line.

"Hell yeah," Tom said enthusiastically, and headed for them.

Georg snorted. He had to keep a lid on his raging cynicism, he reminded himself. Ever since breaking up with his previous girlfriend, he'd been somewhat wary of pretty girls. Not that they'd trap him into a relationship or use him for sex - though that second one was fine, really. It was more a growing sense that if Georg wasn't in a band - and people didn't know it - then the girls couldn't be bothered.

Tom, on the other hand...

"Hang back a bit," Georg advised him, as he remembered doing years before during their first trip to Spain. "Let's check them out, see what the whole beach has to offer." To be honest, he wasn't looking forward to trying his English skills on a bevy of gorgeous, confident L.A. women.

"Fuck, look at the tits on that one - she's almost popping out of her top!" Tom said admiringly as they passed the first row of beauties splayed out, sun gleaming off their oiled skin.

"Tom, they can hear you," Georg said, passing a hand over his eyes. A few of the blond and dark heads rose to track their approach, then settle back down in dismissal, as they walked by.

"But they don't speak German," Tom declared. It was a virtual certainty, they had discovered over the past few years. Most Americans, even American fans, didn't have a grasp of much beyond their mother tongue.

"I don't care what language they speak; all women understand 'perv' just fine," Georg replied. "Keep it casual. And hell yeah, she had nice tits."

"I'd do her," Tom pronounced as they sauntered further up the beach.

"I wouldn't," Georg said. "She had pillow hips."

"A nice set of hips is important," Tom agreed, "but, come on. She had plenty to grab onto, you know?"

Georg chuckled and Tom joined in. The hot sand lapped around their feet, burning around the skin not protected by Georg's sandals, and Georg cast a longing glance at the drinks stand sheltered by a large umbrella further up the beach.

"Come on, they've got a bar," Georg said. He knew this kind - run by the hotel, they'd simply charge it to the room tab.

Drinks in hand, they resumed their walk up the beach. As Georg turned from signing the drink slip, he realized Tom had taken his shirt off. Well, that certainly was one way to communicate what one had to offer. Not to be outdone, Georg peeled his own shirt off before picking up his drink. He glanced over at Tom, who had lost some of the tight definition he'd had the year before, but what he had looked good on his lean, spare frame. Tom wadded up his shirt and tucked it into his towel, and Georg followed suit by rolling his shirt into his own towel.

"There's a good little group of them over there," Georg said, gesturing with his drink and letting himself ogle Tom a bit more openly as Tom's head turned. Georg didn't normally go for guys – not at all, in fact – but as they did in so many instances, the twins broke this rule for him as well.

It would be embarrassing to admit how often Tom's face popped up in his masturbatory fantasies, so he tried not to admit it even to himself.

They sauntered in the indicated direction, where a cluster of women were in the process of rearranging themselves, back to front.

"Look at that one," Tom said, beginning to gesture with his drink and catching himself. He ducked his chin and continued, "the blond, you know? Oh, man. She looks like she'd let you do everything to her."

Georg looked, and pulled a face. The blond had a gorgeous sweep of long hair, and her body was long and lean – a little too lean – and bronzed, overly so. "Maybe that's the problem," he replied, nose still wrinkled. "That means she's been everywhere, too. Oh, check out the one next to her, the redhead."

"Beautiful breasts," Tom said.

After so many years working and touring together, one would think that they'd know everything about one another's tastes by now, and not the bullshit that they all spewed for interviews and chats, doling out the things their publicist told them the fans wanted to hear. Tom was cagey about his preferences in a way that built up certain suspicions that Georg kept to himself. He did seem to parrot certain things back at Georg as though trying to give him what he wanted to hear.

"I'm a breast man," Georg admitted. "Hers look kinda silicone, though, you know?"

"Yeah, but they're nice and buoyant," Tom returned. "Good to grab onto, play with..."

Georg couldn't help but smirk. "Well," he said, not sure whether he wanted to call Tom on it or not. "Depends on the tits. The implants. You know."

"Oh, I know," Tom said hastily, but Georg caught him frowning.

Georg sipped at his drink to cover a snigger. Someone with Tom's _alleged_ prowess would have handled plenty of breasts, implants and real, enough to have a thorough sample size for comparison. And yet, the gaps in Tom's knowledge when it came to certain things were hard to cover. "Good for titty-fucking," Georg continued.

"Yeah," Tom said, recovering. "Yeah, or motorboating. You could make her push them together and just..." He brought up a hand as though to cup an invisible ample breast.

"Never much saw the point of that one," Georg said, thinking to himself that whatever else, Tom _watched_ a diverse array of porn. "Girls get off when you do that?"

"Ehh," Tom said, rocking his drink hand back and forth, placing the liquid contents in peril. "They like the lip ring, you know? Motorboating it is just, you know, playing around."

"Could do with a bit of playing around," Georg said, eyeing up a brunette who was pushing up on one elbow, watching the two of them as they passed. Her skin was a rich, dark color that looked as though it didn't need further tanning. "Now she's got some nice ones, enough to play with but not to flop all over the place."

"Ah, yeah, definitely," Tom said. His eyes were drifting further up the line, where three girls had settled with their rumps mostly-exposed, only thin scraps of fabric covering their tailbones and strings draped over their hips.

"You like the ass," Georg said, arching a brow.

"Huh?" Tom's head swung up and around.

A few women looked up at Georg with annoyed, sleepy faces as they passed, reminding him that the German word was rather close in that instance.

"The butt, you're more of a butt guy, instead of the boobs," Georg clarified.

"No, no way, I definitely like big boobies," Tom protested, his comeback somewhat too quick and vigorous.

"Sure, but...you like the ass better," Georg persisted.

"Whatever," Tom said, and gestured toward a blond with waves of thick, golden hair. "There's a beauty, and I bet it would be fun to pull on her hair. You know, during."

"To really get her to work her mouth," Georg seconded with a nod.

"Though that's risky," Tom continued, sounding a bit more confident. "Might tempt her to, you know, nip."

Georg laughed. "That sounds like the voice of experience."

Tom winced. "Gotta be careful if you haven't made sure they're in the mood for something rough."

Georg nodded absently, looking down another row of scantily clad, oil-glistening bodies. He checked Tom out from the corner of his eye; his bandmate was tonguing at his lip reflectively. He drained the last of his drink, simultaneously cooled and still hot from the waves coming off the sand.

"Nice mouth on that one," Tom commented.

Georg looked, and drew in an appreciative breath. His brow creased a bit and he looked from the girl to Tom. They both had naturally full lips, but Tom's were slightly pouty, touched with a hint of the wicked smirk he could deploy so effectively.

"I'd love to cock-slap those lips," Tom said, and drained his own drink. "Bet she'd like it, too, the filthy slut."

Georg grimaced, taken aback. "Tom," he said patiently, "you know, you might actually have a chance at getting some girls, for a change, if you weren't always talking shit about them."

"Wh-what?" Tom faltered, before continuing, "I get plenty. I have to turn down so much ass, I could open a used toilet-paper shop."

Georg knew from experience he should to tread carefully on the subject, yet couldn't stop himself saying, "Whatever; like you've actually had that many women." He was getting sick of Tom's constant ragging on the ladies. It was bad enough to joke about it during interviews that their massively girl-dominated fanbase would watch and pick apart, but the fronting in private was starting to get on even Georg's easygoing nature. Besides, if they did finish the afternoon chatting up some girls, Georg was pretty damned sure that Tom wasn't taking any up to his room.

Tom's face went cold and still, his dark brows drawing together. "What are you talking about?"

Georg made a small scoffing noise. "There's no cameras here, Tom. You don't have to lie to me. I know that you used to have girls up to your room, years ago, but not anymore."

Tom's hands whitened as he clenched his fists. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said at once, his eyes darting to the side. He lowered his head and bit at his lip. "I get plenty. So what if you're so absorbed in your own, uh, business."

Georg shook his head a bit and tried not to smirk.

"Whatever," Tom said, and stalked away, turning in the hot sand to go back the way they'd come.

"Tom? Tom...ahh, fuck."

Georg loped after him, hissing as hot sand lapped over his feet. He caught up to Tom and put a hand on his shoulder.

Fists clenched, Tom came to a stop.

"You're not seriously pissed at me," Georg ventured.

Both their heads turned as a pair of women sashayed past, both well-stacked and wearing tiny bikinis that put everything on display. Both of them had dark hair, one bobbed to her jawline, the other pulled back in a ponytail. They were both tanned to a light golden tone. The nearer one, the brunette with cropped hair and a heart-shaped face, looked up and down Georg's torso before turning her attention to Tom.

"Nah," Tom said absently. "Just kinda...pent up, you know, frustrated."

"See any you like?" Georg asked, interested. "Could try to pull a couple..."

Tom glanced over at him, somewhat abstracted look dissolving into slow mischief. "Yeah, I could for myself, but what about you?"

Georg chuckled. "Why'd you think I took my shirt off?"

"Oh," Tom said, raising his brows. "I thought that was for my benefit."

"Way to play it cool, hot shot," Georg said. They kept walking up the beach and Georg eyed the drink stand wistfully. He'd need way more booze to get up the courage for what he really wanted to suggest.

"Eh," Tom said. "I'm too lazy to put out the effort; think I'll go watch some porn. That sweet redhead? I think I've got something with her on my laptop – or her doppelganger, maybe."

"Nice," Georg replied. He hesitated a beat before adding, "Can I watch?"

Tom barely glanced over at him. "Sure, I'll email it..."

"No, I mean...we could both watch it," Georg suggested, keeping a close eye on Tom.

"Huh," Tom grunted, and put his empty cup to his lips. "Kinda make it awkward, you know, with you there, and me there, and...uh...the girls..."

"Lesbian porn?" Georg inquired, his interest level ratcheting up several notches.

Tom smirked over at him. "Kinda follow through with the theme of the afternoon, you know. All of these half-naked sexy ladies."

Georg nodded, gazing briefly at the nearest pair of young women splayed out on their beach towels before restoring his gaze to Tom.

Tom's warm brown eyes were speculative.

Georg swallowed harshly. He wanted to go replenish his drink again, for more reason than his parched mouth. He could imagine it suddenly, his afternoon going one of two directions. He was perfectly capable of pulling a fine lady on his own, having her shown up to the room; maybe even two college-age beauties if he played it right. Then again, he and Tom had skirted the edge of flirting for years, hadn't they? The other path his day could take involved Tom, and porn, and perhaps a bit of friendly exploration between two guys who could laugh it off later as getting caught up in the moment...

"Want another drink?" Tom said suddenly.

"Yeah," Georg said. It sounded like the most brilliant idea in the world. More alcohol was never a bad thing, so far as easing social relations went. They ambled back to the drinks stand in more or less comfortable silence. Georg snuck glances at Tom out of the corner of his eye, a smile lurking that he couldn't quite allow to form.

"One last lap of the beach," Tom decided once their drinks were replenished. Tom had switched to something with a good deal more alcohol, and Georg had ordered the same.

Perhaps Georg wasn't the only person needing liquid courage.

"Fine," Georg agreed. He had a strong feeling there would be porn at the end of the line.

"So do we get to keep talking about the women, or is it too perverse?" Tom asked, gesturing with his drink up the beach.

"Perverse?" Georg questioned with a laugh. "I'm used to your filthy mouth, Tom."

Tom quirked a brow at him. "Yeah? So we don't have any problems?"

"You and me--" Georg sloshed his cup between them "--no problems. I think you might have some getting laid, but..."

"Oh, I don't have any problems getting laid," Tom assured him, meeting Georg's gaze from the corner of his eye. His tongue pushed against his lower lip, wiggling the piercing back and forth.

Georg shrugged. That was low and confident enough that it rang of truth, no bullshitting needed. The questions stacked up in his head again and he swallowed them down. All he could think of now was the lure of Tom and a room with lesbian porno, the two of them sitting, maybe even sprawled out side by side on a bed upstairs in the hotel. Bill was gone for the whole day and maybe Georg was ready to take the chance.

They strolled past a trio of women laid out in the sun, their eyes shielded with opaque dark glasses, hair fanned out around them in golden halos against colorful beach towels.

"So we can keep doing our thing, objectifying all of these lovely ladies?" Tom inquired. He tipped his cup to his mouth.

"Oh, is that our thing?" Georg shot back, grinning. It really was true. He talked about plenty of stuff with Gustav, but not generally women or porn. He'd never think to wax effusive on women with Bill, for so many reasons he didn't bother to begin enumerating. This was something he and Tom did. And if Tom's claims came across more as fiction than auto-biographical, well, they were usually entertaining nonetheless.

Tom shrugged and applied himself to his drink again, expectant brown eyes meeting Georg's over the rim of his plastic cup.

"Objectify away," Georg said, making a broad gesture before lifting his own cup.

"Good, 'cause that blond has a nice tight butt, and I bet you she likes doing anal."

Georg looked, swore, and recovered his cup before he could spill down his bare front. "Fucking hell," he said. "I knew you were an ass man."

"Keep it down," Tom said, smirking over at him.

"They let you do that?" Georg asked curiously, because he had yet to convince a girl to let him do _that_. He'd gotten close a couple of times but they'd always backed out, and he didn't really care because the hole they did allow access was self-lubricating, a great deal less trouble.

"I've done anal loads of times," Tom said. "Too many to count."

Georg noted the curious phrasing but let it pass.

"But you're more of a boob guy," Tom said, and gestured with his chin. "So how about her?"

Georg looked, and grimaced. "There's such a thing as too much," he said. He liked nice ripe breasts, but not actual watermelons. "I mean, if I might smother between them by accident..."

Tom cackled and tipped his drink back. "None of them have said hello yet," he observed. "I thought someone might have called us over by now."

"This is L.A.," Georg returned, wry. "The women here aren't impressed by us _or_ Tokio Hotel, unless they actually see us at some Hollywood music industry after-party."

"Why do you think I took my shirt off?" Tom countered.

Georg grinned over at him. "I was starting to wonder."

"Screw you; you took yours off, too," Tom replied, grinning back.

Georg looked up the expanse of blue-edged white beach and the heat shimmer that hung low over the flat pale sand. Air conditioning was beginning to seem like a godsend and the drink in his hand weighed heavy. "These women are hot," Georg said, "but that porn sounds pretty damned appealing. Lesbian, you said?"

"And how," Tom replied. "It's better than the straight stuff."

Truth be told, Georg was getting somewhat wound up talking about sex acts out in the open with Tom, and all of the women around them none the wiser. Jerking off to porn would provide a hell of a lot more expedient release than spending the rest of his afternoon chatting up a woman who might end up slipping the hook anyhow.

"I think it's time for some male bonding," Georg decided.

"Oh, really?" Tom said with a smirk. "Sure you're not interested in the women here on the beach?"

 _Not the women, no,_ Georg almost said, and bit his tongue. They'd skirted the edge of flirting plenty of times over the years, yet Georg had treaded lightly for a while now. Not merely because of the cameras, but because of a kind of withdrawal on Tom's part shortly after they'd begun the Zimmer tour. Between one thing and another, crises and work and beyond, Georg had never seen a need to press Tom on it. They were still plenty friendly, ragging on each other and playing off each other in interviews, working their guitars into a frenzy as the screams of the crowd ribboned around them.

Things had seemed a bit different over the past few months. Tom's flirting attitude seemed to be coming back, slowly, as though he were interested or playing with Georg, or wouldn't quite let himself do...something.

"If any of them give us the time of day by the time we get back to the drink stand, I might reconsider," Georg said instead.

"Sounds like a plan," Tom said with a nod.

They ambled back up the beach, taking a route that brought them closer to the women sprawled on unfurled colorful towels that surrounded them like open-petaled flowers. A steady, low-voiced stream of appraisal issued from Tom; he talked about their hips, their asses, their round, firm breasts, the bikini slips that revealed hints of shaved or waxed dusky flesh shading into the rosy areas of their lower folds.

Georg tried to keep up, but his brain got stuck in the smutty track and he was mostly limited to grunting agreement and squinting at the nearby women like the worst kind of perv.

"—and hot-dog her until it explodes," Tom concluded, before lifting his drink to his lips again.

"Shit," Georg said appreciatively. He brought his towel from around his neck, shifting it to carry it closer to his hip now. "Anyone ever tell you that you've got a filthy mouth, Kaulitz?"

"Ehh, you guys do, on a regular basis," Tom tossed back.

"Oh, right."

As they neared the last trio of women, Georg had to re-position his towel a couple of times. He ended up with a sort of impromptu hip-wrap that he fumbled and nearly dropped. He held his roll of towel at his hip and hoped it would shield him from potential public shaming.

"Packing heat, or just packing?"

Georg wanted to smack Tom with the towel, but that would leave him exposed. "Shut it," he muttered. "Another drink?"

"Hell, yeah."

Topped off for the third time, they made their way back to the hotel.

"We didn't even get wet," Georg said, thinking of the cool dark blue ripple of seawater along the shore.

Tom gave him a broad smirk. "Maybe you didn't..."

"Ah, sick!" Georg exclaimed as they re-entered the path that would take them back to the hotel.

"You love it," Tom told him.

"Guys don't get wet," Georg said. He made a face when Tom looked at him.

Tom made an obscene gesture. "At the tip."

All Georg could do was give a shocked little laugh.

Living in close quarters for an extended period of time when they were younger, they had all been up in each others' pockets. Walking in on each other, hearing each other, even _smelling_ each other had been inevitable to a point. That had been years ago, though, and Georg had forgotten how crude and to the point Tom could be.

For some reason it had escaped him, even though he'd been the brunt of little reminders here and there in recent interviews. He'd never forget that toy microphone poking in toward his balls. There had been a moment of panic followed by a flood of amusement. If it had been anyone else, he'd have thought they were flirting with him, but it was Tom. Then again, maybe...

"Try to keep that monster out of sight, will you? You might scare all the people in the lobby," Tom told him, tossing that bright-eyed little grin his way.

Now Georg grasped his towel in a firm hand and whipped it at Tom. Yelping and giggling, Tom fled toward the elevators.

When they got up to the floor they'd booked, Georg tagged after Tom, who cast looks over his shoulder as though to make sure Georg was still following him...or he was nervous. He fumbled with his key card before shoving the door open and plunging through, turning as though to slam it on Georg. They wrestled the door back and forth, laughing for a moment, testing their strength against each other. It chagrined Georg to realize he was losing ground before Tom took a step back, letting the door fly open.

"You prick!" Georg exclaimed, from a prone position on the carpet.

Tom tipped his head back and hooted with laughter. "Close the door," he urged. "This porn's going to be loud enough as it is. You want blonds, redheads?"

"What've you got against brunettes?" Georg wanted to know. "Or a nice black-haired beauty?"

Tom made a little face. "This one," he decided, popping something into the DVD player below the big television. "Make yourself at home."

Georg laid his towel out across the bed, flushed and more than a bit excited already. Was this really happening? Hearing it, seeing it, walking in after it was one thing...but jacking off in the same room together was a whole new level of weirdly erotic. He knew he was attracted to Tom, but he'd never acted on it.

Now it seemed as though Tom was acting on it for both of them.

Georg draped a fold of toweling over his lap and watched Tom out of the corner of his eye as his bandmate settled on the beside him, not exactly near but taking up his fair share of the bed. He set his cap and glasses on the nightstand and kept his eyes on the TV, jumping to the menu and starting the DVD up. It looked like something he'd burned from his computer.

Moaning started up immediately, and the camera came into blurry focus before sharpening on two women kissing. One was blond, one redhead, and there was a lot of tongue involved. The camera kept a tight frame on their faces and they kissed with soft, pleased noises.

Georg shifted, glancing at Tom out of the corner of his eye. If he was trying to seduce someone with porno, starting out with a nice, long clip of kissing was a good way to go. He watched Tom press his own towel into his lap and ease it back and forth. There was a definite tent rising.

Propping himself up on an elbow, Georg positioned himself closer to Tom. Nervous excitement swirled together with the lingering drag of booze in his veins, and he sucked in a slow breath.

"I'm gonna get something from the mini-bar," Tom said. There were spots of high color in his cheeks. "You want something?"

Georg grunted somewhat disconsolately as Tom rolled away from him and off the bed. "Yeah, whatever you're having, man." He turned his attention to the girls onscreen as Tom busied himself pulling out little bottles, clinking glasses around and dumping liquid until it fizzed. Georg realized in the next instant that Tom's dodge was nervousness - and didn't exactly seem to be a 'no.' He was stalling, perhaps pondering the same things going through Georg's own head - could he do this, did he want to risk it. Would this change things, and if it did, could they live with it?

When Tom returned with drinks, Georg grinned up at him, his smile widening when Tom seemed a bit flustered.

"Thanks," Georg said.

Their fingers brushed as Georg plucked the glass from Tom's slackening hand. He almost dropped it, but tightened his grasp and brought the drink to his lips. Onscreen across from the bed, the noises were picking up speed, becoming a cavalcade of excited, breathless moans and steady smacking noises.

Georg looked up. The blond was spanking the redhead.

"You've been very, very naughty," the blond told her partner.

Georg groaned. "Is this for real?"

"I never promised _good_ porn," Tom mumbled. "This is strictly jack-off material." His eyes were heavy-lidded as he flicked a dark gaze at Georg. His tongue emerged from the corner of his mouth to swipe at his full lower lip.

Georg took the chance.

He set his drink aside, uncaring whether it sloshed over the bedspread, and rolled into Tom as the excited noises in the room built up and crested to near-orgasmic levels. Their noses collided. Tom made a noise of protest but before he could roll away, Georg fitted their lips together in a hot press, a better fit, and ran the tip of his tongue along Tom's wet bottom lip.

Tom's breath came through his nose in short, panicked blasts. He was still for an instant, long enough that Georg began to think he'd made a terrible mistake.

Before Georg could pull away, Tom's mouth opened under his.

The kiss was hot, clumsy, urgent. Everything that Georg remembered from frantic fumbles when he was younger, too eager and inexperienced to do anything but grind and give sloppy excited kisses. Their mouths moved and rubbed together and they shared warm panting breaths between them until Tom's tongue eased against his.

The kiss gained speed and before Georg quite realized, he was pressed fully against Tom as their tongues stroked together. Here Tom's expertise came into play. The lip ring gave delicious friction against his lip as they kissed harder. Tom's mouth was firm and demanding. Georg grabbed at his upper arm and tried to roll him, seeking to take control.

"Aaaahh," Tom expressed against his mouth, and his lips moved frantically against Georg's. For an instant, Tom was grinding hard against him, their lips rubbing moist and firm and opening to allow the play of tongues between them. Georg slid his hand up Tom's thigh to cup through his swim trunks and trace out the shape of his excitement.

Tom wrenched his mouth away. "I can't," he said hoarsely, his lips full and red, his eyes half-crazed. "I can't do this."

The excited moans and cries in the background loomed large and irritating to Georg. He fumbled for the television remote and shut it off.

"I can't," Tom repeated, his voice raspy and apologetic.

"Why the hell not?" Georg wanted to know, impulse born of frustration overriding his common sense to back off instead of push it.

“Because I just...” Tom passed a hand over the dark zig-zags that crossed over his scalp. “This is a bad idea.” He moved to the edge of the bed and got his legs over, as though preparing to sit up. He reached for the highball glass that he'd somehow managed to set on the nightstand and drained it in a couple of convulsive swallows.

“Is it...Tom, is it Bill...” Georg began, curious, wondering if he could finally get some answers.

Tom's head swung around. "What the hell do you know?" His expression was stressed, panicked; his reaction out of proportion to those few words.

A click in the distance made Georg scramble for his towel before he could answer.

“Shit...shit,” Tom cursed softly, grabbing for his own towel and getting to his feet. His face was bright red.

“Tom,” Bill called out from the entry hallway in his typical I'm-in-charge tone. “The masseuse was all booked up for the afternoon, so I hope you're up for making it up to me--”

Georg glanced over at Tom. It made sense that Bill had a room key for Tom's, he supposed, but how did Bill know Tom was in here, anyhow?

Tom looked both ways as though seeking an exit to appear. He met Georg's eyes with a trapped expression.

Georg pulled the towel more firmly into his lap.

“--oh, hi, Georg,” Bill said, sounding unconcerned as he entered the bedroom area of the little suite and cast his large rivet-studded handbag to one side. “I thought you were going to the beach.”

“Uh, I was.” Georg cleared his throat. “We did.”

Bill was staring at Tom. “Tomi,” he said curiously. “Were you just...”

Tom looked at the floor and twisted the beach towel in his hands. “N-not really...you know I wouldn't...” he began.

Bill's head swung around and he looked at Georg, now.

Georg tried not to squirm in place as he watched the gears turning behind Bill's gorgeous, sharp, all too observant brown eyes. Whatever else they teased him for, being dense was not one of Bill's faults.

"Georg," Bill said, sounding low and delighted. "Are you trying to seduce my Tom?"


	2. Chapter 2

A quiver went through Georg's stomach at the confidently-delivered possessive, not quite as he'd ever heard it. "Maybe," he said, pretty sure he was about to get one of Bill's deft put-downs. He'd seen plenty of them over the years. Hell, he'd gotten one himself, not quite before he'd even really tried. Either that, or he was about to get teased mercilessly from now until the end of time.

"Well, you're going about it all wrong," Bill stated plainly.

"Oh?" Georg raised a brow. His mouth kept moving of its own volition. "So how do I go about it the right way?"

“Hey, wait a minute!” Tom protested.

Bill's dark brow arched and a faint smile played over his mouth. He skirted the foot of the bed, stealing glances from Tom to Georg and back again. "I'm wrong?" He spoke in a low, confident voice in contrast to his words. He didn't sound as though he thought he was wrong. "You don't want Georg?"

Tom looked uncertain, twisting the towel between his hands and shifting his gaze from Bill to Georg, looking away from Georg very quickly as though caught in the act of a felony. He shot a pleading gaze at Bill as though asking him to let it go.

Georg knew Bill better than to drop anything and Tom ought to know it, too, he thought.

“You were kissing him,” Bill said matter-of-factly.

Georg began to wonder if he should gather his towel and false assumptions and go. If he left now, he might still have some pride to salvage from the mess later.

“Didn't mean to,” Tom mumbled. “Got carried away.”

“You two and your flirting,” Bill said fondly.

"I...I wasn't...you know, not without you," Tom said at last, twisting his abused towel again.

Georg's frown deepened. What exactly was going on here? The puzzle pieces were clicking together.

Why else would Bill have a say?

“It's true, isn't it?” he voiced a long-held suspicion. They'd all treated it as a rumor, a joke, because what else could it be? There was nothing else to do. If it _was_ true, of course, the only thing they could do was pretend the opposite. And if it wasn't, there was no need for any kind of acknowledgment. “You two really...are.”

“Tom's always been mine,” Bill declared. His beautiful face was confident. “There was a little while when he wouldn't admit it, that's all.”

“Shut up,” Tom muttered, so vividly crimson it was a wonder his hair didn't catch fire.

Bill closed the gap between himself and Tom and played a hand over Tom's bare shoulder. Tom started to shrug him off, but Bill persisted, circling Tom and embracing him, putting his arms around him from behind. 

"No...no," Tom protested, giving Georg another panicked look. "Bill..."

"We can trust Georg," Bill said in answer to that, petting Tom's arm, his middle, as though trying to gentle an anxious creature. "Can't you feel it? We _know_ Georg."

Tom fixed his eyes on Georg, something lurking there that was both vulnerable and terrified.

"I'd never say anything," Georg said, sitting up on the bed a bit and furrowing his brow. "You know that, right? I'd never do anything to hurt either of you. I mean...I kind of thought...sure, I wondered...and I never said anything. Not to anyone, ever."

"I know you wouldn't," Bill said softly. He turned his head and kissed Tom's neck. Tom flinched for an instant before the resistance seemed to go out of him; he relaxed into Bill's arms and inclined his head toward his twin. Bill chinned Tom's shoulder and his eyes glinted at Georg. "Do you want my Tomi, Georg?"

"I...I think it doesn't matter whether I like him or not, does it?" Georg stammered. He couldn't keep his eyes off the way Bill's hand passed low over Tom's stomach, and how Tom's eyes fluttered almost shut as Bill's hand brushed the skin of his belly.

"Oh," Bill said, low, speculative. "I think it matters. But I'd like to know, one way or the other." He turned his head and Tom's eyes opened as Bill brushed a whisper of a kiss along his jaw. That vulnerability was still there, as well as the desire Georg _knew_ he had seen, and Bill had caught onto instantly.

"I...I do, yeah," Georg admitted hoarsely.

Tom made a low noise and his dark brown eyes were hot on Georg. Bill pushed his hand lower on Tom's belly, fiddling with the waistband of Tom's swim trunks.

"I think you're over-dressed, Bill," Tom said, his voice coming out low and gravelly. "What do you think, Georg?"

Georg's eyes widened as he took in what the question _really_ meant. Did he want not only Tom, but Bill as well?

"Yes. _Yes,_ " Georg replied, quiet but fervent. "I didn't think...I mean...you both want _me_?"

Bill grinned and skimmed his beautiful pouty mouth along Tom's neck tendon, inhaling. "I don't think either of us could go through something without the other. You're one of the few people that understands that...on every level, I think." He dropped a slow wink at Georg before leaning in to whisper something to Tom.

Tom ducked his head, sucked in a breath, and nodded. He turned his head toward Bill, lips vibrating in the faintest movement as he whispered a response for Bill's ears only. Bill broke into a sweet, incredulous grin.

"You want to know how to seduce my Tom, Georg?" Bill asked, disengaging his grasp and scratching Tom's hips with his black-painted fingernails.

Georg nodded dumbly.

Moving with considered steps, Bill began to peel down at the foot of the bed. "I want what Tom wants," Bill said, keeping his smoldering dark eyes on Georg now. "So now _we_ want you."

Bill kept his eyes on Georg as he removed each item of clothing and Georg watched, mesmerized. He'd seen Bill strip down before; this was different. They were locked into a bedroom and he was throbbing in his shorts, his lips tingling from not only Tom's fervent kisses but the sight of those small intimate touches between the twins.

“Can you guess how?” Bill prompted him, shucking his jeans and tossing them to the side. They landed on the mini-bar and something jangled. They all ignored it. Bill was exposing long expanses of tanned skin, the curves and sworls of his giant side tattoo, the sexy triple-black star that Georg had fantasized about more than once. He disrobed until he was standing there in nothing but his boxers and tattoos.

Georg must have made a noise at some point, because Bill threw an alluring smile his way.

“You have to go through me, first,” Bill informed him, crawling onto the bed on all fours.

Now Tom made a noise, strangled and more than a little angry.

“Bill! What do you think you're doing?” Tom demanded, also kneeling on the bed, appearing torn between going for Bill or going for Georg. "I'm the one who got him warmed up, _I_ should get to..."

Bill flicked him a scornful look. “I'm the one sealing the deal, Tom,” he said. “I knew you wanted Hagen the moment I walked in here, but you were going to back down. I'm making sure we're all leaving the room satisfied, so I ought to get to...enjoy the results first.”

Georg perked up. He lifted an arm to reach for Bill as the slinky younger Kaulitz approached. “Are we really going to do this?” he questioned.

Bill sat back on his haunches out of reach and cocked his head to one side. He darted a teasing glance at Tom, biting his lip.

“You want us.” Bill addressed Georg directly.

Georg sucked in a shaky breath and pushed his hair back. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted.

Bill's brilliant smile lit up his whole face, reward in and of itself for giving the truth. “If we can't trust _you_ , who can we trust?” he asked rhetorically. "Besides, come on. We're acting out years of built-up tension."

Georg looked from Bill's sensual features to Tom's, set in a more apprehensive cast. “You both really do want to do this?” he asked one last time. Tom still looked nervous, half-exhilarated, like a boy necking with his girlfriend in the parents' house, someone who could be caught any second but was at the mercy of his own libido on overdrive.

Tom licked his lips and nodded hesitantly, eyes on Bill all the while.

Bill gave him a predator's grin. “But I'm not going to blow you,” he said. “I only do that for Tom. It's very intimate, to me.”

Georg's eyes widened. “I...I...” he began to stutter, and cleared his throat. “I kinda thought we were gonna do a circle jerk, you know?” He accompanied it with a demonstrative gesture.

Bill made a scornful noise. “I didn't get a full body wax to come home and jerk off,” he said.

Georg swallowed, hard. “Full...”

“Uh-huh,” Bill confirmed. He gave Tom shining eyes. “I'm all waxed for you.”

Now Georg experienced the first stirrings of discomfort. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such vivid affection blazoned over Bill's face when he looked at his twin, and sure, he'd seen his fair share of flirting and weird behavior between the twins over the years, but it was the first time he'd had a front row seat in what was now an unmistakably sexual context.

Tom licked his lips. “Are we gonna talk about this all afternoon, or are we going to get naked?”

Bill broke into another all-encompassing grin.

“Have the two of you...done this before? A threesome?” Georg wanted to know, tossing his towel aside. He began to ease cautiously out of his trunks, keeping an eye on Tom to make sure this wasn't some form of extreme Kaulitz prank. He realized he was still more than half-expecting the two of them to burst into shrieks of laughter and shove him out of the room naked. They'd make fun of him for the rest of his _life_. And he'd deserve it, for going along with it for so long.

Bill had no such inhibitions. He skimmed right out of his boxers. Georg couldn't keep himself from staring avidly. As Bill had mentioned, his pelvic area was completely devoid of hair, dark or otherwise. Even his arms and legs were bare now.

“Oh, kind of,” Bill replied. “We did it with someone else in the room, but he only watched and jerked off.”

“Who was it?” Georg asked, fascinated. The thought that it might have been Andreas sprang instantly to mind. Who else would the twins trust with this most dangerous, volatile secret?

“Wouldn't you like to know,” Bill responded with an enigmatic smile. He hooked a finger at Tom. “Get on with it.”

Tom, who had been fidgeting with his towel and hooking his thumbs in his trunks and playing them around the elastic band, grumbled but shoved them down his hips at last, like a man jumping into frigid water with both feet. He was still partially erect, a good size even at half mast, slender with the promise of rigid length.

They were all naked. Georg was lying in bed with a pair of naked, horny Kaulitz twins. He thought he might faint; all of the blood had definitely ebbed from his thinking-head.

“So...” Georg mumbled, looking back and forth between them. "What do we...?"

“You two got started without me,” Bill said, pushing forth a pout. “So I need some attention.” He slithered toward Tom.

“You always need attention,” Tom mumbled. He lifted his face to Bill's.

Georg held his breath and tried not to move as he watched the twins zoom in for their first real kiss. Tom was clearly more eager, a little desperate even, as he met Bill's lips with his own. Bill pushed firmly against Tom and took charge, slipping his tongue into Tom's mouth with a small, pleased murmur; lifting his hand to Tom's nape and cupping him into the kiss, preventing him from escape. Their lips parted and Georg saw flashes of wet tongue. He could only tell which was which when he saw the peek of a silver piercing.

When they broke, Tom was panting, and Bill was turning that heavy-lidded predatory gaze of his on Georg. He, too, was now sporting a slender hard-on.

Georg had time for a small “oh” before he was swamped with an armful of Bill.

For some reason, he'd taken the declaration on blowjobs to mean he'd get very little else. Before he was properly braced for it, Georg was tightening his arm around Bill and there was an agile, eager tongue in his mouth, the warm bead of a piercing dabbling against his palate. He kissed back, summoning up every ounce of skill as their tongues twined. He was hard even before the first light stroke of fingers along his cock. Bill's hand wrapped around his dick and pulled in brief, purposeful tugs.

“Nice,” Bill said appreciatively. “Where the hell have you been hiding this beer can of a cock, Georg?”

Georg smirked at the twins. “What do you think is the basis of my self-confidence? A man's got to have a couple of secrets from his bandmates, after all.”

“It's monstrous, I love it,” Bill murmured. Tom chinned Bill's shoulder to look, and his eyes widened in a gratifying expression of mingled surprise and admiration.

“So thick,” Tom mumbled, sounding intimidated yet intrigued.

Bill pushed at his face. “Get back, you've had your chance and you blew it so far. You can have your turn in a bit; get back there.”

“Rrgh,” Tom responded, but kissed Bill's shoulder and retreated, chaining kisses down his lats and spine as he went. "You want me to kiss it?"

"I really do," Bill murmured, and raised a parted mouth for Georg.

Georg was the sole focus of Bill's concentration again, and he took advantage of the moment, not sparing any reflection to wonder over the enigmatic exchange between the twins. He captured Bill in another thorough kiss, driving his tongue in and seeking the head of the tongue stud that had taunted so many. Now Bill was in his arms and his undivided attention was Georg's, and this was _happening_.

“Mmm,” Bill moaned against his mouth. He braced himself on knees and one hand over Georg. “Okay?”

“So much better than okay,” Georg assured him, and licked his way back into Bill's mouth.

Bill made a pleased noise against his tongue and kissed back, delivering heavy swipes of his tongue against Georg's. Where Tom had been quiet, nothing passing between them but soft excited pants, Bill was vocal – of course – giving humming noises, encouraging moans, and lowly-uttered curses against Georg's lips.

The hand moving over his cock went faster, pumping in steady beats. Bill thrust his tongue into Georg's mouth at the pace his hand went and all Georg could do was cup a hand at the side of Bill's face and go with the flow. If he got only this much, it was more than enough. It was already so much more than he'd expected.

“So good,” Bill crooned, pulling back to give Georg a delicious view of eyes hazed to half-mast, glistening lips and smoldering gaze.

It was then that Georg became aware of the smacking, sloppy noises – almost like sex, but not quite. It sounded like very wet kissing. He glanced over Bill's shoulder and his eyes widened as he caught sight of Tom.

Regrettably – unbelievably – what Tom had been doing had faded from Georg's conscious awareness as Bill wrapped him up in such a thoroughly involved kiss. Georg supposed he might have been thinking that Tom was jerking off, or something.

Tom wasn't jerking off. He was definitely participating in what was going on. Georg could see the dark rows over Tom's scalp moving back and forth as he produced those smacking noises from behind Bill.

 _Behind_ Bill, at his rear. Tom was eating out Bill's ass.

Bill bit his lip and looked over at Georg with those hazy, sex-filled eyes. “What?” he murmured, his hand moving slower over Georg's unflagging erection.

Georg shook his head in confusion. “He's...oh my god...I've never...is it...is that good?” He wanted to say, _I_ knew _you were an ass man_ , but didn't want to interrupt Tom when he seemed so intensely focused.

Bill laughed, sucked in a breath, and moaned as he pushed back and Tom's wet noises grew louder. “You don't know much about rimming, do you, Georg.” He moaned again and looked over his shoulder. “Feels so good, Tomi.” His eyes fluttered shut.

Georg watched Tom's nose bob up and down into the hairless crack of Bill's little ass, fascinated. He'd never seen two men having sex before in person, and it surprised him a little that the twins trusted him so much to enact such an obviously intimate act in front of him. His stomach lurched with arousal and he couldn't stop watching. He reached for his dick and it was hard as ever.

“You both seem to like that a lot,” Georg said muzzily, turned on but also somewhat disturbed, despite seeing how Bill was enjoying it, biting his lip and pressing back stiffly. Tom reached up and pulled one of Bill's rear cheeks further apart, really getting down in there. "Isn't that...wow. I dunno."

"What?" Tom said, lifting his face a bit, his lips wet and swollen. "He's clean, freshly waxed - this is my favorite time to eat Bill out."

"But...isn't it..." Georg began faintly, marshaling useless arguments. It wasn't as though the twins were going to stop, or ask him to do it. "Seems weird. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's hot. But it's so..."

Tom rested his chin on Bill's sacrum. "He's clean, if that's what you're wondering."

"I clean it," Bill added, haughty. "You know, _in_ there. I did just this morning." He pushed back against Tom, whose attentions had lapsed as they both gave Georg incredulous looks. Tom's eyebrows shrugged and he pushed his face against Bill's ass again.

"That really is...so hot," Georg concluded. He'd never thought much of the act when he was seeing it in porn, but watching two people so clearly in love – and into it – elevated it to another realm.

Tom resumed that enthusiastic, hungry lapping; the involved wet noises and sucking sounds that were making Georg's cock harder in spite of his initial reservations about rimming.

"Put something in me, put it in me," Bill moaned, rocking forward on the bedspread, hands bunching it up.

"Okay," Tom said, pulling his mouth off Bill with a wet smack. "You want Georg, or..."

The sudden jolt of warmth hit Georg's stomach like a Red Bull and vodka; energy and lassitude combined. He'd assumed, after Bill's words earlier, that he'd get to watch but not participate. Look but not touch.

Bill's eyes fastened on his; a hazy, greedy look. "Georg," he said, addressing him directly. "I want your cock."

Georg groaned and palmed it. He experienced a pang of disappointment. He'd thought, with all the heavy flirting that he and Tom had been doing earlier, that he might...that they would... But then Bill had come along and set the pace for this encounter, as he did for everything.

In the next instant it was as though a bolt of lightning struck and shattered him; Georg stared at Bill with hazy eyes and the hairs on his arms rose. “Really? Yes, oh god, yes.” If his thing for Tom had been flirting, his thing for Bill was something beyond fantasy. Bill was so sexual, so alluring, drawing in both women and men and he knew it, yet was still so untouchable.

Now Georg knew why. For some reason, the twins had decided to let him in.

Bill gave him a slow smile as though reading his mind, and reached down to tug on Georg's hard cock again.

"Have you done boys before?" Tom asked, casting a suspicious look at him over Bill's rump.

“Well...no,” Georg admitted.

“Bill...” Tom began.

“He's about to, now,” Bill interrupted. "Unless you want to go first, Tomi?"

"Oh, my god," Tom said, eyes widening. "No, no way. Unless you mean me on _you_."

"Tom," Bill said, chiding. "Georg is our guest."

Tom sighed and planted a kiss on the divot at the base of Bill's spine. "You go first."

Bill raised himself up and looked over his shoulder. “Get the lube.”

Bill plied Georg with more of his fiery, consuming kisses as Tom left the bed. Georg reached up, fanning his hands over the prominence of ribs and hipbones, kissing back until their tongues met hard and their teeth clashed briefly.

When Tom returned, he tossed a condom that hit Georg's thigh. “If you tear through that when you're in him, I'll kill you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I'm clean,” Georg said, wounded. Not because he wanted to protest the use of the condom – he wouldn't, because this was on their terms or not at all, like all Kaulitz ventures – but because there was a chance he could break the condom, and thought they should have the reassurance in advance.

“You want to go get one of yours, then?” Tom said. His expression was intractable.

“It's fine, condoms stretch,” Bill said. He looked over his shoulder. “It'll be _fine_ , Tom, ohhhh...”

Tom had inserted a lube-coated finger into Bill from behind, and he returned Bill's look with a steady expression. “Go ahead and put it on,” he told Georg with a nod.

Bill returned his gaze to Georg with a sparkling expression. “No, I will,” he said playfully. He batted Georg's hand away and got the condom open, setting it between his lips.

Georg's brows tried to launch off his forehead. “I thought you weren't going to blow me,” he said, astonished.

“This isn't fellating you, it's just prep,” Tom said, dismissive.

Bill nodded and bent over Georg's lap. His hair was gelled up today and there was nothing to get in his way as he took the base of Georg's cock in hand and rolled his mouth down in a deft, expert move, stretching his jaw wide and encasing him with lips and condom and stretching effortlessly from tip to base without pause.

“Fuck!” Georg shouted, wanting to thrash but very much aware of Tom's watchful eyes on him. He gripped the base of Bill's neck, wanting to keep him there longer, maybe, but Bill was already backing off. The drag of his stud against Georg's sheathed dick was a beautiful, too-brief torment.

“Like that?” Bill said, grinning. He wiped at his mouth with the back of one hand, making a face. “I hate latex. Ohh.” His eyes closed in pleasure and he pressed back against Tom again, who was working fingers into Bill with an intense expression.

“But, you and Tom use condoms?” Georg said, somewhat surprised, or not. Tom did say his number-one travel item was condoms; apparently that wasn't a lie.

“When we don't want to get messy,” Tom answered. “You know, for quickies and stuff. I think you're ready.” That last was addressed to Bill.

“I know I'm ready; I want it,” Bill moaned. His face already bore a faint sheen of sweat, particularly across his forehead, and his lip gloss was all but gone. His eyes opened and he fixed Georg with a predatory gaze.

“How are we going to...?” Georg said, making a nondescript gesture. He wanted to grab Bill and throw him down and pound into him. He wanted to lay him against the duvet and ride his legs up and push in slow and tender as making love. His conflicting desires were a jumble; he would probably only get the once, so he wanted as much as possible. Most of all, he wanted Bill to enjoy it, so he asked.

“You're big, I mean, wide, you know? So I'm going to ride you,” Bill informed him. “Lie back – no, sit against the headboard. Okay?”

“Fine,” Georg replied, because he was pretty excited about getting it any way he could. He hitched himself up and Bill shifted around, making soft urgent noises. Georg arranged himself at the headboard and rubbed his thighs before grabbing his dick and jerking it a few times as he licked his lips and watched Bill's approach.

Bill hovered over him a moment, gave him a brief smile, and planted a wet kiss on his mouth. He turned around, situating himself athwart Georg's thighs but facing the other way – toward Tom.

“Hey,” Georg began to protest, and groaned deeply as his cock slid between the cheeks of Bill's ass. There was a pause as Bill guided the tip of Georg's cock to his entrance, and in the next instant another groan ripped free of Georg as Bill took him into slick tight heat, working himself down nice and slow.

“So thick,” Bill crooned, sliding further down on Georg's cock and making a pleased, shocked noise. "Ahh, so nice and thick."

“I thought you were going to...sit the other way around,” Georg mumbled, but his hands were already going to Bill's waist as Bill sat down on his cock.

“This is better for my prostate,” Bill proclaimed.

“It's all about his prostate,” Tom said, amused and affectionate. He reached out a hand for Bill's face and Bill grabbed it, nuzzling Tom's fingers.

“And it's so I can suck you off while I ride him,” Bill said bluntly. His hips were already moving, inscribing circles that rolled Georg's cock inside him, deep and deepest.

Tom perked visibly. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, bring it over here.”

Tom crawled toward them, eyes sliding shut as he leaned in to give Bill a kiss. Bill made a quiet, pleased noise and began to lift himself up and down on Georg's cock.

Georg could only groan and watch, transfixed, as the hottest person, boy or girl, that had ever been on his dick began to bounce in his lap, creating a delicious friction. Bill was kissing Tom with a lot of tongue and they were both making happy sounds, and Georg got to watch as Bill fucked himself on Georg's _very_ happy dick. There was nothing better, more superlative, than watching Bill's tight body move atop him as he licked and bit and tongued at Tom's open, panting mouth.

It had to be both of them, Georg realized. He couldn't be more thrilled with how this had turned out.

“Okay,” Tom said at last, reaching down for his cock as though to steady it. “But I think I'm going to have to stand up, you know? Unless you want me to...”

“Kneel up,” Bill ordered. “I'll lean down.”

Tom's eyes connected with Georg's over Bill's head. “But then it might not be very good for Georg,” he replied.

“Fuck, it's good,” Georg vowed. "Whatever you want to do is fine, Bill."

“I can stand up,” Tom said. He tossed an impish grin at Georg. "He gets his way often enough without you helping him at it, you know."

“Stand up on the bed?” Bill objected. All the while he moved back and forth, giving Georg's dick a slow grind. “I don't want you to fall.”

“Not going to,” Tom said, and grabbed one of Bill's shoulders. “Stay right there.” He wobbled and got to his feet, keeping a grip on Bill's shoulder and taking his long, hard cock in hand as he pointed it toward Bill's mouth. There wasn't an overwhelming amount of girth but it had a nice length, enough that any woman ought to be very happy. Or, Georg corrected himself, one prostate-loving twin.

Bill uttered a sexy sort of whimpering noise as he hitched himself faster in Georg's lap. He licked his lips and lifted his face as Tom brought his stiff cock into range.

Mesmerized, Georg watched as Tom pressed the head of his dick to Bill's lips. Bill kept moving on Georg's cock, rocking sweet and slow as he let Tom rub the tip against his mouth. It was topping a succession of the hottest things Georg had ever seen. He grunted as Bill moved a little faster, giving him the up and down motion again as he turned his head a bit, coy, while Tom held the cock to his mouth.

“Open up,” Tom said, and Bill shook his head. Tom's free hand went into Bill's hair and he moved his cock in a sudden slap, striking the head against Bill's cheek once, twice, then rubbing it against Bill's lips again.

“Oh my god,” Georg uttered faintly, shoving up into the clench of Bill's tight, molten-hot ass.

Bill crooked a wicked, heavy-lidded glance over his shoulder before turning his attention back to Tom and the cock held near his mouth. Tom rubbed the tip over his bottom lip again and Bill whimpered.

"Open up," Tom said again, and pushed his cock into Bill's mouth.

Georg moaned and held onto Bill's waist hard, grabbing tight enough to perhaps leave bruises, as Bill rotated his hips in a series of demanding circles. He could barely keep up with the swamping over-stimulation of sight and sound that Tom and Bill were giving him, not to mention the other sensory pleasures their sex was delivering, and couldn't fathom how Bill was coping with so much.

"Mm, mmm," Bill moaned around Tom's dick, stretching his lips down over the length.

Georg had a good enough angle to see beyond the crest of gelled-back hair, which was coming undone from its formerly immaculate coif, to see the way Bill's plump lips split around Tom's saliva-slicked cock. Georg groaned again and pushed up into Bill, seizing his hips and slamming upward. Bill was making frantic noises as he bobbed down Tom's cock. At last, he pulled off and grabbed at Georg's thighs, his sharp nails scratching along Georg's sweat-damp skin.

"Harder," he urged.

Georg, who had been wondering if he was going too fast or hard, bit his lip and moved faster, fucking himself into Bill's tight sheath, slamming his engorged dick harder into Bill in a series of brutal strokes.

Bill made a high-pitched kind of squeak followed by a low, leisurely moan. Tom was kneeling in front of them, his hand closing around Bill's dick and pumping.

"Ahh...ahhh," Bill sighed, his head lapsing back against Georg's shoulder. One bright, caramel-brown eye peered up at him. "Did you...?"

"No," Georg said dryly, and pressed a kiss to Bill's temple. "Unlike you kids, I have stamina. Ahhh...that's good. Can I keep going? I'm not done."

"I'm done," Bill replied. He climbed off him, wincing, and immediately put a hand to his butt. "Oh, my god, am I done."

"You okay?" Tom demanded, reaching for him.

"I'm great. It was good. _So_ good. Ah, fuck, Tom, you have to try that," Bill said, collapsing over one of Tom's thighs and nuzzling at his hip.

"Is it better than ours?" Tom wanted to know.

Georg observed them both as Bill appeared to actually consider the question. It weirded Georg out slightly that Tom had used the plural rather than singular, though from what he'd seen, their cocks were identical.

"No," Bill said at last. "Only different. Different in a good way, a nice change. C'mon, Tom; Georg isn't done yet, so it's your turn."

Tom regarded first Georg, then Bill with wide, somewhat crazed eyes. "No way, he's not putting that beer can cock into me!" he protested.

Georg began to shrug but Bill was looking speculative.

"You'll love it," he insisted. "It's like a battering ram rubbing past your prostate, almost too much but so fucking amazing."

Tom appeared torn. "It's gonna hurt," he said, reluctant. "You know I don't do it as often as you..."

Georg was privately astonished to hear that Tom offered his ass up for anal, period. Then again, all of that fronting had to be overcompensation for _something_.

"Lie back and we'll make it good for you," Bill soothed. "You're always complaining that it's so much work to top, anyhow. Your turn to take it."

Tom looked dubious, but he laid down beside Georg, scooting along the bed until his lean naked body was arranged beside him. Bill crowded in, pressing Tom's legs up, and kissed one of Tom's knees before making Tom pull both his legs up toward his chest and hold them tucked in.

Georg couldn't risk touching himself whatsoever as he watched Bill prep his twin for Georg's dick. Even these small motions had an eroticism to them, as Bill loaded his fingers with slippery clear gel and pressed each one inside, one after the other, slow but insistent. Tom whined and squirmed and turned red in the face, refusing to look at either of them.

"I don't know..." Georg said, not wanting to make Tom do anything he wasn't into.

"He wants this," Bill assured him, kneeling up from Tom to give Georg that familiar, Bill-knows-best arched brow. "He needs to be coaxed a little, that's all."

"Tom?" Georg questioned.

Tom groaned and lifted his hips. "Don't make me _say_ it," he half-whimpered, biting his lip and giving Georg hazy eyes.

Georg smirked back at him. "Fair enough."

"He's ready," Bill declared at last, sitting back on his haunches and pulling his fingers out of Tom. He wiped his hand on the spread and looked over at Georg. "Probably should change your condom."

"Oh, yeah."

Once that was taken care of, Georg found himself positioning himself at Tom's ass, looking down at Tom's hard, red cock above the heavy fullness of his balls, his tanned, firm chest and abdomen, and his strained face. Tom was licking at his lip.

Georg had to pause, asking Tom wordlessly if _he_ wanted it. God knew he was dying to get in there, he'd done his best to quiet the rush of illicit longing over the years, but now he no longer had to and he wanted to help himself. Bill was making this most cherished fantasy come true and it wasn't even his birthday.

"Do it," Tom whispered.

Georg nodded, bracing himself over Tom and rubbing his dick down below the sensitive stretch of skin below Tom's balls.

Tom took his lip between his teeth, nodding.

Georg pushed the head in, and Bill reached over to take his twin's hand as Tom gasped.

"It's okay, Tomi," Bill told him. "It's good, you're doing so good."

"Fuck...you..." Tom gritted, his face screwing up into pained lines.

Georg kept up the steady pressure until the fat tip of his cock popped past Tom's initial resistance. He had to pause because Tom was squeezing the hell out of him.

"Relax," Bill urged. He rubbed his free hand over Tom's tensed belly.

"You try fucking relaxing!" Tom burst out, and groaned, his head lolling over the pillow, spilling black braids everywhere. "Goddamn it, Georg, you and your monster prick."

Georg grinned down at him, less concerned even though he'd noticed Tom was no longer hard. If he was making jokes, he was fine, or going to be soon.

"Keep going," Bill told him, still making soothing circles over Tom's belly.

Georg fed his cock into Tom, groaning. Bill had been amazing, so incredible Georg didn't even have words, and if he didn't give so much of himself to everyone – but Tom most especially – then Georg would want him all to himself. Tom was incredible in a different way, definitely tighter, probably a bit less skilled, but giving himself to Georg in a way that was making his heart clench. As Georg worked his cock deeper into Tom he pondered the ways in which the twins were inextricably bound up in his very being, and couldn't even mourn the fact that this was bringing them even closer in a way that could never last.

When he was all the way in, he looked down, concerned that Tom still wasn't erect. Bill was nodding, though, so Georg began to thrust gently, working his cock in and out.

With a strangled moan, Tom hardened beneath him, rocking up into the grip of Bill's reaching hand. "I can't...oh god!" he groaned, guttural and drawn-out.

It was a frightening sound and Georg's eyes darted from Tom's contorted face to Bill's intent, sweat-sheened features.

"He likes it," Bill assured him, flashing him a little grin before biting his lip and returning his attention to Tom. His hand stroked up and down Tom's hard, red cock. "Keep going."

Georg was grateful for that, because he really, really didn't want to stop. He pulled out until only the head was inside and pushed back in, repeating that one move until Tom made some very undignified noises followed by 'oh god oh god oh god.' The bed shuddered and squeaked beneath them and the headboard thwacked the wall a few times, making Bill laugh and pet Tom harder.

"Ah god, so intense," Tom gasped, holding onto his legs for dear life and taking the short, steady thrusts that Georg delivered to him.

"Tomi, how do you want to come?" Bill asked, face intent.

Georg raised a brow. "I was planning on _making_ him come." He was sure of himself, now, and if the pressure of his dick on Tom's prostate didn't do it, he damned well knew how to jerk a guy off.

"No, I mean...I'm ready again, so if he's up for a change in position, he can get on me and I'll brace against the headboard, while you keep plowing him," Bill said cheerfully.

Tom let out a burst of somewhat hysterical laughter. "We'll smash the headboard through the fucking wall."

"But what a way to ruin the security deposit," Bill purred. He got up on his knees, revealing the length of his stiff red cock.

"God, you two really are still a couple of teenagers," Georg bemoaned. He pulled out of Tom, unable to resist frotting the tip at Tom's stretched-open hole for a moment. "I can't believe you're hard again, already."

"It's Tom, I can't help it," Bill said by way of explanation. He got onto his hands and knees, bracing away from Georg with one hand up on the headboard, baring the sweet minimal swells of his ass and his little pink hole, still glistening from earlier.

Georg groaned, seized with the urge to grab Bill's waist and get on him again. Somehow he'd known Bill would be this alluring, even sweaty and strung-out with pleasure. He also knew, right now, that Bill would strongly discourage any attempts to have him again – he'd dictated the sex act they were going to initiate now, and what Bill said was law. Nevertheless, he reached out to fondle Bill's nearest rear-cheek as Tom twisted around, getting up beside Bill and giving his own cock a few rough strokes. Bill made a soft sound and tilted his hips, arching his buttocks into the touch. Encouraged, Georg thumbed at Bill's ass, exploring the soft, hairless skin, stroking fingers into the delicate skin of his crack.

"Mmm," Bill hummed, arching into his touch again.

"I've got him," Tom told Georg, crowding him out to get closest to Bill's upraised ass. He palmed it, pressing his thumbs in and up the crease, and Bill moaned on a drawn-out, pleasured note.

Georg had to throttle down a sudden flare of jealousy, recognizing it as useless. He wasn't sure which twin's attention he wanted more: Bill, who he'd been fondling, or Tom, who he'd been fucking, and was about to again. First and foremost the twins had each other's attention, and that would never change.

"In me, get in me," Bill whispered.

Georg reached down and squeezed his aching dick, hard. He wanted to respond to that hungry whisper. He wanted to line himself up and push into Bill's delicious embrace again. Maybe later, he thought without much hope, if Bill would let him again.

Oh god, he wanted it again.

"I need it, Tomi," Bill concluded.

Georg watched, biting down hard on his lip as Tom positioned himself behind Bill. He uttered a helpless, incredulous groan as he watched Tom push in, mounting Bill in one long thrust. He would've thought it would hurt, neither slow nor cautious, but Bill's noise was anything but pained. Part of him wanted to lie off to the side and enjoy the sight of them fucking like some kind of moving sculpture personification of lust and narcissism combined.

"Georg," Bill said, strained. "Do it."

 _Do Tom,_ he realized, and Georg roused from his transfixed daze. Tom's ass was moving back and forth as he went into Bill and drew back again in constant, shallow thrusts. Georg set a hand to Tom's nearest hip and guided his cock back to the enticing target hidden between the tight, small but firm swells of Tom's buttocks. It took a bit of aiming but Georg moved in, easing his dick back into the confines of Tom's narrow ass.

"Ahh...ahhh," Tom moaned, and it was unclear as he slumped over Bill's back whether the noise was complaint or pleasurable overload.

"Feels good?" Georg slurred. He wanted to make sure.

"Fuck...fuck!" Tom exclaimed, hunched over Bill's back and still plowing into him. His movements brought him back and forth over Georg's dick, too, and he could have stayed where he was and let Tom do all of the work.

Georg wanted to make them feel it, though.

"Go, do it," Bill told him. It wasn't clear if he was talking to Georg or Tom, but Georg had a feeling it was him.

With a guttural moan, Georg pumped his hips, forcing Tom to take his cock and shoving him forward onto Bill. The twins cried out in unison. He did it again, catching Tom round the hips as Tom pushed back against him and lurched away. The first several thrusts were awkward, counterbalancing them, making Tom whine and Bill mutter something that sounded vaguely like 'get it together.'

Georg eased in and out of Tom, pressing a hand to his belly to feel the muscles tense and relax as Tom thrust into his brother. With another maddened groan, Georg fit his rhythm to them, thrusting into Tom as Tom withdrew partially from Bill.

Tom moaned and hunched over Bill's back, speeding up. Lewd, sloppy noises filled the air between them.

Now Georg thrust powerfully, unable to contain himself any longer. He'd been suspended on the brink of the keenest, most tortuous pleasure for far too long. He plowed into Tom with desperate strokes, shoving him forward, forcing him into Bill at his own pace.

As Tom cried out, Georg fumbled around his hip and stroked his hand down Tom's taut belly, pulling their bodies close together as he pursued the last stretch between him and his orgasm with a vengeance. Everything faded but the heat of Tom's body clenching down on him, tighter than anything he'd ever known, and the soft simultaneous noises of pleasure from both twins. Georg lipped at Tom's neck and drove forward as he came.

Release was a supernova burst of ecstasy racing along each singing nerve and vein, the bliss of his own pleasure magnified by an untold order with the twins beneath him gasping and shuddering, still going at it. At the height of his climax, Tom reached back and grasped at Georg's flank as though trying to pull himself along, or transmit enjoyment by touch. Georg plied his mouth in soft kisses along Tom's neck, working his hips at a gentler pace as he spent his load into the condom.

As Georg began to come down from that incredible high, Tom groaned. It was no longer exactly a pleasured sound. "Can you...? Ugh, I think you split me in half."

Panting, grinning, Georg withdrew. He settled himself off to the side and watched.

A part of Georg had wondered, over the years, whether the twins looked as brilliantly illuminated at the height of passion as they did during concerts, half-wrecked and all exhilarated. As Tom gave Bill a few more fervent strokes, reaching down to tug his twin's cock to the same rhythm as he pushed into him, delivering a series of rattling knocks to the wall at the same time, Georg found it was the same, almost exactly the same. Bill was rapt and sweaty, moaning and uttering little broken cries of enjoyment; Tom looked wasted, listing over Bill and appearing as though he'd topple at any second. Tom bent over Bill's back until they fit together like two puzzle pieces. Bill tipped his face to the side and Tom stretched forth, the two of them sharing a kiss that was more desperate tonguing than anything before they resumed the urgent pace of their sex.

At last Bill wailed, and creamy spurts of come jetted against the bedspread. Tom collapsed across his back and they went down in a giggling pile of elongated Kaulitz limbs.

"Beautiful," Georg murmured.

Bill was facing him, bright-eyed and grinning and appearing as though he were ready to go four more rounds. "I'm so glad you think so," he said, and bit his lip.

Tom's face appeared over Bill's arm, sleepy but satisfied. "Was it good?" he wanted to know.

"Sandwich, I want to make a Georg sandwich," Bill said, reaching back to pet Tom's sweaty thigh.

Tom nodded and heaved himself up, rolling over and off to the side. He padded around the foot of the bed and climbed onto the other side of Georg, flopping down naked beside him with a relieved sigh. Georg didn't bother to suppress a grin over the fact that it was the exhausted twin who'd hauled his ass out of bed to obey the energetic younger twin's command.

Bill cuddled up against Georg's side. "Was it good?"

"Oh, god," Georg said faintly, and wasn't too manly to snuggle into the double embrace that surrounded him as Tom spooned up against his other side. He shifted himself enough to plant a kiss in Bill's dark, fragrant hair and murmured, "You two have absolutely _ruined_ me for normal sex, you know."

Someone was rubbing circles across one of Georg's nipples and he wasn't sure which twin it was, and it didn't really matter. He was blissfully happy for now, and a tentative plan never to move again sounded like the best course.

"Really?" Tom asked interestedly.

"Fuck, yes," Georg said at once. It was dangerous to feed the twins' ego, but in this one instance, he couldn't be bothered to care.

"Oh?" Bill said, sounding immensely flattered.

Tom chuckled. "We may have to 'ruin' you again, then."

"I'd be incapable of saying no to that," Georg said seriously.

"Good," Bill said, playing with a handful of his hair. He tugged on it, drawing Georg's attention back to his full, bee-stung lips. "Kiss to seal the deal, then."

Georg let himself be drawn into a gentle, involved kiss. Bill probed his mouth gently, as though searching for something. He cupped Georg's jaw before releasing him and his brown eyes were speculative. Before Georg could pursue or think too deeply on that look, he was being tugged the other way, and Tom's heated lips met his. A painful, all-encompassing sensation was churning in his gut, something Georg was terrified, and too smart, to name.

"So," Bill said brightly, "you'll be good to go again in a little bit, right?"

Georg stared at the beautiful young man nestled in the crook of his arm. "You," he declared, "are some kind of monster. Or prodigy."

"I still haven't decided," Tom put in, tossing them both a sated, mischievous grin.

Georg had a feeling he was going to have a great deal of fun, and amazing sex, applying himself toward finding out which it was.

The next day, they converged over the breakfast table at more or less the same time, for a change, as the entourage had to get rolling at an early hour to make the next leg of the tour up to San Francisco. Georg didn't even bother to suppress his smug expression.

Tom limped to the table and settled himself down with all the ginger care of someone with a tailbone injury. Georg happened to know it was a bit further south, of course.

Gustav looked up from his paper, a German periodical that he had delivered wherever they went. "What happened to you?"

No sooner were the words out of Gustav's mouth than did Bill arrive on the scene, walking with somewhat exaggerated care. Georg experienced a twinge of remorse - he'd had Bill a second time, while Bill buried his face in Tom's lap and sucked Tom off - but fell back on the position of 'it was all Bill's idea.' They all had better sense than to deny Bill anything that was within reasonable means to provide.

"And you," Gustav said, gaze sharpening as he looked from Tom to Bill, who was curling up in his chair with a low grumble.

"We were trying out a new fitness program," Tom told Gustav, absolutely straight-faced. He was the better liar, of both the twins. Georg supposed he had to be, given all that he knew _now_.

Gustav managed to give the impression of rolling his eyes without actually doing so. It was a marvel of economy. "Is that what they're calling it these days."

Georg grinned and said absolutely nothing. The key to keeping his Kaulitz all-access pass, he knew, was discretion.

He sure as hell couldn't wait for more.


End file.
